Watching Over You
by MoonGoddessShadow
Summary: Mary Winchester never believed in angels, not with what she'd seen in her lifetime; they sat pretty close to Bigfoot on her scale of existence. But when one starts following her around town, she's going to have to reconsider her position.


A/N: I'm not sure where this one came from, though honestly, I don't know where any of them ever come from. For reference, I used Nathan Fillion as my basis for Cas' host in this fic, even though I suppose I could have just used a young Jimmy. I'd like to believe, from what we saw in The Rapture, that Cas had never contacted Jimmy until recently. Maybe that's just me.

* * *

Something was off, she could sense it. Seven years of living a normal life hadn't dulled her senses, not even in the slightest. After all, she was a Campbell at her core, from a long line of hunters trailing back to the pilgrim days; her earliest memories were of her parents doing research for hunts and reading her bedtime stories as cautionary tales. Even with her quiet Winchester life, the hunter part of her would always be there. A hundred alarms went off in her mind the moment she noticed him, and no matter how firmly she told herself that she was just being paranoid, the feeling wouldn't go away. Something was definitely wrong.

She tried chalking it up to coincidence, but those were few and far between in her experience. Being followed from the department store to the gas station to the grocery store by the same guy just couldn't be a coincidence, not in her life.

He wasn't all that threatening–about six feet tall, messy brown hair, blue eyes, decent build–but it was the way he always stared at her that was creepy. Not once in the past few hours could she remember seeing him blink. He just watched her, eyes open in a way she knew was distinctly inhuman.

As she pushed her cart out to the Impala, baby Dean burbling absently in the carrier, the man followed, a safe fifty feet behind her the whole time. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for whatever he would try, years of self-defense training snapping back like she'd never stopped hunting. Acting as if she was none the wiser, she loaded the groceries into the Impala's large trunk and pushed the cart back to the return, keeping an eagle eye on him the entire time. He made no movement from his safe distance, just staring at her in a way that was decidedly disconcerting.

After she'd secured her son in the backseat, Mary stood up straight, falling into an imposing stance her father had taught her to use in confrontations. Any advantage she could gain by seeming more threatening, he'd always told her, could end up being the difference between life and death. She looked directly at the stranger, matching his unwavering gaze.

"You need some help, mister?" she shouted, drawing only a few askance glances in the small parking lot. The man seemed a little surprised she'd addressed him, but took this as an opening to approach her.

"I am not in need of assistance," he replied, words seeming a little stilted, like he hadn't spoken in a very long time. Every hunting instinct told her that he wasn't human, and yet that fact didn't bother her as much as it should have. Maybe it was the years, or the fact that the last supernatural encounter she'd had was with a child spirit when she was house-hunting with John, but this guy didn't give off the malevolent vibe that most monsters usually had. The only thing making her uneasy was his inhuman gaze and how noticeably off he seemed; that only served to make her worry more.

"What are you?" she asked, eyes narrowing. He tilted his head sideways, not quite comprehending. "I mean, you're obviously not human, so what kind of creature are you?" His eyes widened in realization, paired with a slight nod of acknowledgment.

"I am an angel of the Lord," he stated matter-of-factly. Bullshit was the first word that came to her mind, but she resisted the urge to vocalize that thought. Out of all the answers she could imagine, that wasn't one of them.

"No such thing," she said instead. In all her life, she'd been told that very few things didn't exist; alongside Bigfoot, angels were pretty high up there. No one had ever seen one or even heard of a friend of a friend who'd seen one. Most sightings could easily be attributed to trauma, an altered mental state or an overactive imagination. Frankly, Bigfoot had more credible proof in its favor than angels did.

The man made no comment, only raising his arms. A flash of light illuminated the cloudy day, revealing the dark outline of two large, feathery wings. Immediately, her heart leapt into her throat, mind racing, grasping for any alternatives that would suddenly jump out at her, but every thought just ran back to angel. It was silly, she knew, and so improbable, and yet every fiber of her was singing the truth of his being.

As he lowered his arms, the sound of Dean crying broke through her swirling thoughts. Absently, she reached into the car and pulled him into her arms, shushing him gently; the man watched this entire interaction intently.

"I am Castiel," he said after a moment, when Dean had quieted to discontented sniffles and tears. Mary got the feeling that he didn't know how to react to a crying baby. "I am an angel of the Lord." Mary watched him with a wary eye, still trying to comfort her son as she processed everything that had happened in the last few minutes.

"Why are you here?" she asked, trying to wrap her mind around the whole situation. Again, he tilted his head, reminding her for all the world of the puppy she'd had as a kid.

"I'm here to watch over you and your son," he said simply. She raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Dean began crying again. Some things took precedence, even when the choice was between her son and the sudden existence of angels. She rocked him, whispering calming nothings to the red-faced baby. This man, Castiel, reached out and gently stroked the baby's head; instantly, Dean was quiet, large infant eyes going wide and a huge smile appearing on his face. Mary looked between the two, astounded by her son's sudden change and feeling increasingly overwhelmed by everything that was going on.

"What'd you do to him?" she asked, dangerously close to going 'mama bear' on him. The apparent angel smiled vaguely.

"I did nothing. He calmed of his own accord." Mary raised a dubious eyebrow, but after another look at her son, who was beaming in a sunshiny way that only babies could, she smiled for the first time since the angel had begun to follow her.

"Well then, I think he likes you," she responded, bouncing the smiling boy. "So what are you, his guardian angel?"

"You could say that," he replied, vague smile still so faint on his lips that she couldn't be sure she wasn't just imagining it. "I am assigned to your son, to protect him from any untimely harm that may befall him." Her breath hitched in her throat as a singular, terrifying thought flashed through her mind.

"Even from -"

"Yes, even from the one you call Yellow Eyes." Unconsciously, she breathed a sigh of relief. Without John's knowledge, she had safeguarded their house, but she still worried that the demon could come and destroy her family. After all, he'd easily ruined her previous life, and her parents had been strong hunters. John and Dean wouldn't stand a chance if Yellow Eyes showed up–John was a Marine, had fought in Vietnam, but that would only get him so far up against a demon, and she planned on never teaching her children about hunting unless it became absolutely necessary. With an angel on their side...

"May I hold him?" the angel inquired, catching her off guard. For a second, he seemed more human–something in his voice let her know that he had genuine compassion for her son. Mary glanced down to Dean, her grinning baby boy, and without a thought, handed him to Castiel.

The angel took him gently, watching the baby laugh and drool with wide, appraising eyes. He looked over the child, taking in everything about him with that subtle smile that was almost charming. There was obvious affection in his eyes, whether even he knew it or not; Dean watched him back, cooing as he reached up to touch the angel's face. Castiel jumped slightly at the touch, as if he'd been shocked.

"What's wrong?" Mary asked, worried that he'd received a vision or was being attacked by another being. She didn't know the capabilities of angels, and had to assume anything was possible right now. The man just looked up at her, features composed stoically, but she could see just a glimmer of surprise behind his eyes.

"Nothing is wrong," he replied, once again completely inhuman. Holding Dean gingerly out in front of him, he added, "Here is your son." Mary took her child, glancing down at the boy before diverting her attention back to the angel. He looked into her eyes for barely a second before vanishing with only a faint rustling noise.

The woman blinked, processing his sudden disappearance; her hunting skills may have been intact, but she wasn't really accustomed to such blatant displays of otherworldliness anymore. She gave the parking lot a once-over, just to make sure that no one had seen Castiel leave. When she was sure there were no witnesses, she put Dean back into his car seat, and it was only then that the weight of the conversation hit her.

An angel was watching over her family.

An angel. One of the most mysterious and yet prolific supernatural beings in existence, and it was assigned to protect the Winchesters. She didn't know anything solid about them, but if the Bible was anything to go by, then Castiel would be immensely powerful, even up against some of the worse monsters she'd faced in her lifetime. This was amazing.

The entire way home, she could shake neither her awe at the entire concept nor the content smile on her lips.

* * *

That night, as Mary tucked her baby son into his crib, she murmured what would quickly become a nightly bedtime comfort.

"Night, Dean. You've got angels watching over you."


End file.
